CHAPTER 2 #2
Inside the box was a purple powder that sparkled under the candlelight, almost hypnotic.
Purple—such a rich and unique color.
It was deep, elegant, and it reminded her of beautiful flowers like violets.
She instinctively took a step closer, admiring how the purple powder shimmered in the light.
Though it was behind the glass cabinet, she could swear she smelled something strange, though everything in this shop had an odd smell, so it was probably unrelated to the pigment itself.
"Do you like this?" the apothecary owner, Alejo, leaned in, trying to make a sale. "This is a new pigment I bought from a Persian merchant—would you like some?"
It almost felt like when she used to go shopping for clothes, picking out skirts.
Hedy made an effort to resist the temptation but found herself thinking of an English expression.
Born in purple—meaning a person born to nobility.
She thought to herself that perhaps it was worth giving up one fish for this. She turned to the shopkeeper and asked, "How much is it?"
"One spoonful, one hundred twenty-five soldi. Would you like some?"
"Hey, Miss Kiesler, don’t turn away just yet—how about I give you a discount of five soldi?"
"One spoonful for over a hundred soldi? You might as well rob the cardinal's house!"
Hedy walked a few steps but then suddenly remembered something and hurriedly turned back.
Alejo gave a sycophantic smile. "How about one hundred and ten soldi?"
"I won’t buy that," Hedy said, her mind drifting back to her previous life. She then asked, "Sir, do you know anyone in the copper mines?"
"Copper mines? You’re looking for ore? I’ve got some here..." Alejo immediately turned to search for goods, but was interrupted as Hedy quickly grabbed his arm.
"No, not copper ore," she corrected, "I’m talking about a blue stone that can only be found in copper mines."
That would be chalcanthite.
Upon hearing this, Alejo stroked his chin, his expression becoming thoughtful. "What do you need it for?"
"To make... to make pigment," Hedy replied, stepping back a little and feigning ignorance. "I heard from some foreign visitors in the city that the blue stone is even more beautiful than ultramarine, and it's easy to find in copper mines. Do you sell it?"
If it was too expensive, she would just forget about it.
Alejo chuckled, then casually sat down on a nearby wooden chair, crossing his legs. "You think I don’t know about that?"
He had a cousin who had once visited his family and brought him some of that very stone.
It was indeed translucent and rich in color, like the sapphire on King Theseus' scepter.
But such a fine thing, though abundant in the mines, had to be wrapped in thick cloth when extracted. Even a glance at it had to be followed by a quick cleaning and several layers of wrapping.
"I once thought of making a fortune off it, but the moment you take it out, it changes color, and then it’s worthless!
" Alejo rubbed his nose and smirked. "In the cave, it's sky blue, but once you bring it back, it turns white. If it were pure white, that’d be fine, but it has some odd greenish tints. It's truly bizarre."
Hedy, who had been unsure if he was talking about chalcanthite, became alert at this. "So could you help me get some? I’d like to take a look at it!"
"You're after this?" Alejo looked at her with a suspicious expression. "Are you going to somehow turn it back to blue?"
Hedy wasn’t sure how to deflect, so she slipped two soldi into his hand. "Since it’s a worthless thing, could you just bring me a few? I could even use it for buttons."
Alejo laughed and handed the silver coins back to her with a generous gesture. "I’ll write a letter and send it over. You should get it by next Sunday."
"Then... I’ll bring you some pasta next time," Hedy said, her smile bright with gratitude. "You’re very kind, sir."
"This is for you, not for Da Vinci," he waved his hand dismissively. "Now, go on, it’s nearly mealtime."
When Hedy returned to the workshop, the contrast between this place and Botticelli's was even more striking.
The workshop down the street was spacious and elegant, with two floors and apprentices working. This place felt like a shabby mess, not even the crows wanted to linger here.
As soon as she stepped into the courtyard, Hedy noticed that Da Vinci was watching her from the window.
I’m not late, am I?
She carefully closed the door, walked over to him, and tried to use cooking as an excuse to slip away.
"You went to Botticelli's workshop?" Da Vinci asked briefly.
"Yeah... I went," she replied.
What kind of history do they have?
"Did you look at his paintings?"
"...I did."
"What do you think?"
Hedy didn’t expect to be put on the spot for an art critique right after she got back. She thought for a moment before answering, "His brushwork is delicate, the colors light, and the reproduction of details is really high quality. It looks nice."
Da Vinci, who had been calmer when she first arrived, now straightened up, his tone turning sharp. "His paintings look nice? Then what do you call my paintings?!"
Your paintings are drafts and half-finished pieces...
Before Hedy could respond, Da Vinci stood up and started pacing like a critic, frowning and venting.
"That painting by Botticelli—the expression on the Virgin’s face looks like she’s about to jump out of the window!
And the angel’s wings look like they’ve been attacked by an eagle! You actually think that looks nice?"
Hedy, aware of his usual temper beneath his composed exterior, naturally tried to calm him down. "Leonardo, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your work. It’s just that you don’t finish your paintings, and I really want to admire them properly."
Da Vinci, momentarily stuck on his words, was still a bit irritated. "Can you blame me for not finishing? I haven’t figured out the perspective and the muscle movement yet. Just slapping it together would be irresponsible!"
You just need an editor to push you to finish your work.
When Da Vinci made his comment, Hedy’s expression shifted from mild apprehension to serious focus. She pulled up a chair and sat beside him, speaking earnestly, “Sir, I’d like to discuss something with you.”
Da Vinci slumped into the chair with a frown, eyeing her. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to go back to his workshop tomorrow.”
“No, no,” Hedy breathed in deeply, gathering the patience she once had when teaching her young son how to play word games. “You love art, and I’m sure you’re committed to studying the structure of bones and muscles, right? You must also need to buy some oil paints and tools for painting, right?”
"Yes, so what?" Da Vinci replied, still puzzled.
“Well, you dissecting perch or shells is fine, but that doesn’t really solve our long-term food situation,” she said, carefully choosing her words to avoid upsetting him. “If we divided our time into blocks, would that help us work more efficiently?”
Da Vinci didn’t expect her to bring up this topic and repeated, “Dividing time?”
Oh, this was a very modern concept.
Hedy couldn’t find a Latin equivalent for the word “efficiency,” so she gestured as she tried to explain. “What if we divided the day like a cake? We could separate it into several pieces, and in each block, we would do specific tasks. Other things wouldn’t interfere, right?”
Da Vinci sat up straighter, a focused look in his eyes. “Go on.”
From his expression, it seemed he wasn’t angry.
Hedy wanted to encourage him to focus more on painting to earn more money, so he could buy more paints for their work. She had lived over eighty years and knew how to navigate such conversations, so her tone softened.
“For example, every day, you design costumes and props for the open-air theater, you go to Palazzo Vecchio to paint for the Medici, and you also study models to understand muscle textures. Your day could be split into four or five parts, each dedicated to a specific task. That way, nothing else would interfere, right?”
This should prevent procrastination for months…
Da Vinci thought for a moment before replying, “We could use Giotto’s bell to guide us.”
“Exactly, at different prayer times, you could do different tasks.”
“This way, I’d have more time to design flying stunts for the theater!" Da Vinci suddenly smiled in delight. "The last time I arranged for that guy to descend from the platform, the effect was amazing. Did you see that performance?”
No! That’s not the point! You’re getting distracted by all of this!
"Sir," Hedy said, her tone becoming serious, "I sincerely advise you to finish the fresco at the Palazzo Vecchio as soon as possible. That way, you'll have more freedom."
Da Vinci looked disappointed, thinking for a moment before responding, "Has my father asked you to hurry me?"
"No," Hedy replied firmly. "But think about tempera—just to paint the Virgin’s skin, you need to mix egg whites into the oil paints to achieve that translucent effect." She emphasized her point. "If you keep delaying, we’ll be eating nothing but black bread for the next few months."
Sometimes, she could smell the aroma of stews from the streets, and her stomach would almost growl in response.
If he continued to procrastinate like this, she feared they’d end up owing wages soon enough.
Da Vinci sighed deeply, clearly frustrated. "I really want to finish sooner, but sometimes when I'm painting, I can’t help but get distracted by other things."
He would even spend an entire hour studying a stain on the wall when he was avoiding his work.
Hedy rubbed her face and said seriously, "I’ll supervise you from now on."
And she truly did start supervising.
Every day, they would head out to the Palazzo Vecchio, listening to the sound of Giotto's bell, and they would return together by 3 PM.
Before 3 PM, it was work time, and they had to focus on finishing the fresco.
Perhaps because Hedy was watching over him, Da Vinci’s efficiency improved remarkably.